


Residuum

by Busillis



Category: Hermitcraft
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Creampie, Eventual Smut, Ex has hobbies, Explicit Consent, Flower Pressing, Generous Precum as Lube, Hiding Medical Issues, Illagers (for like two seconds), M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Misunderstandings, Multiple Orgasms, Multiple Sex Positions, Potions, Rough Sex, Vex Magic, big dick zed rights, ex has a dick, magical influence, takes place in s6, zed tops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:08:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29816475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Busillis/pseuds/Busillis
Summary: They had spent a night together in a woodland mansion by the will of some illagers and their vex magic.Afterwards, they had been teleported back home in one piece.What they didn't count on were the after-effects of their stay.(Takes place right after the events of 'Hotbed'. Probably best to read the other one first, but it's hard for me to say if it's not really required since I wrote both fics and know what happens;,,)
Relationships: Evil X/Zedaph, Evil Xisuma/Zedaph, Zedex, evilworm
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	Residuum

**Author's Note:**

> Hey
> 
> It's been a minute
> 
> Have some more zedex content c:

The sleepiness ebbs from Ex’s waking consciousness as he rouses from a nice dream. Rubbing the back of his hands against his eyes, he stretches lazily with a soft hum in his chest and a soft pop in his back.

He’s in his own bed for the first time in a few days. The previous nights had been spent snoozing over at Zedaph's place since a week prior to that, within the confines of a secret room tucked away inside a woodland mansion under the unexpected captivity of magically imbued illagers, they had also shared a night together.

After being teleported back home, they had immediately made plans to explore similar activities— or at least they had thought of doing so while exchanging private messages, the two eagerly typing out the things they wanted to do with each other. By the time Ex had arrived at Zed’s doorstep, however, the steam had already cooled. Instead they’d allowed themselves to be distracted and built a pillow fort, and simply hung out in a comfortable silence that was occasionally interrupted by Zedaph making a silly joke made up on the fly.

This pattern had continued over the next few days, and the eager messages had grown less frequent, losing their charge and quieting down until becoming something left unspoken between them; a memory easily recalled yet left unsaid and unexamined . After a week’s passage, Ex is back on his own, working on his own regimen of… whatever it was he felt like in the moment. Oftentimes, this includes spying on Xisuma, trying to figure out other ways to destroy servers without actually destroying them— he’s since come to the decision to think of their destruction in a more theoretical way, something philosophical to muse about while practicing a mattress stitch— and pressing leaves.

This latest hobby, pressing cuttings into books he's sneaked from Xisuma's storage, is what is occupying most of his time at present, and currently he’s walking through some plains, a pair of shears in hand looking for fresh plant cuttings to use. Eventually, he comes up to a line of young oak trees, probably planted just a few days prior to replenish what was once a robust forest, and he’s hit with a thought as he prunes a fern. The smell of oak and earth sparks in his mind and he thinks back to the woodland mansion, his thoughts taking an interesting turn when they try to stray a little further.

Checking his message log for the day, he sees some folks talking amongst themselves with quick messages and emotes, but Zedaph’s name isn't among them. It wasn’t uncommon for folks to go silent for a while, sometimes going for a few days on end without sending a single message; they all tend to get distracted, being super busy or for other reasons, so he doesn’t feel inclined to worry.

As if on cue, he sees someone ask a question in the general chat— something to do with needing a second person to take a look at some redstone timings—and sure enough Zedaph is the first to respond. Not one to study redstone, Ex minimizes the message log and resumes in his search for foliage.

The following day as he’s flipping through his books to check up on the latest batch of his recent experiment, a soft knock sounds at his door. Before Ex has the chance to speak up, the person’s already letting themselves in. The steps grow louder as they come closer, and a familiar shape appears in the doorway.

“Hey, hey, look who it is!” comes the chipper tone of Zedaph, who’s carrying a parcel. They don’t kiss or embrace like a couple, but Ex welcomes him, offering the guy something to eat or drink. They both settle on some fruit juice, sitting adjacent to each other at the table where Ex is currently working. Zedaph carefully places the parcel into an empty spot before scooting it towards Ex.

“For you.”

Tearing back a flap, inside are a few new books, ones with blank pages so Ex has more room to press leaves and do other kinds of things books are made for. Appreciative, Ex quickly ruffles Zedaph’s hair, and Zedaph ducks away shyly with a fond laugh. Zedaph didn’t stay long, as he has some projects of his own that he’s been putting off for a minute, and soon after they are bidding each other farewell.

While he wouldn't necessarily define it as losing himself in his hobbies, Ex definitely invests the next couple of days poring over his newfound affinity for pressing leaves, as well as rejuvenating his penchant for knitting, even going so far as to rearrange his living space to accommodate his crafts.

He's out and about on a cool mid-morning, absentmindedly treading down a random assortment of paths in search of more plant cuttings, only to discover his wanderings have brought him to the foot of Zedaph's base.

The sound of breaking glass brings Ex out of his reverie, and it's then that he notices the world changing around him. It was currently in the process of being landscaped, with obvious careful consideration being put into the style of terraforming taking place. Zedaph appears to be in the middle of making some sort of glass structure, possibly something crystalline, before ducking into his base.

Ex follows suit, not bothering to knock on the front door before entering but still considerate enough to wipe his feet. He can hear Zedaph rummaging through chests and shulker boxes somewhere within his base, but he heads for one of the designated living spaces, depositing his books onto a table.

He starts arranging the books on the table when he hears footsteps approaching from behind, and soon Zedaph is pulling into the seat adjacent to him. He watches Ex shuffle the books around quietly for a moment before asking, "What have you got there?"

"Books,” Ex replies while placing one into Zedaph’s hand. “Open it."

Zedaph does, and is immediately delighted by the ornate collection of flora within, perfectly staged and preserved between the pages. Taking extra care while flipping between each entry, Zedaph says, "This is wonderful. This must have taken a while."

Ex can’t help the small grin that crosses his face and he ducks his head, momentarily forgetting it's obscured by his helmet. Zedaph continues going through the pages, and Ex feels something warm in chest a little from watching the awe reflecting in Zedaph’s eyes.

“You can keep the book.”

Zedaph’s eyes are suddenly on him with a hint of surprise but mostly uncertainty, his fingers thumbing the edges of the pages and eyes briefly darting off to the sides before meeting Ex’s.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“I-... Thank you, Evil X.” And Zedaph beams at him. It makes him want to hide his face again, so he departs shortly afterwards to distribute more of his books around the server.

A few more days pass, and something odd pops up in the message logs. It’s a question, one that would’ve seemed innocuous at first until one actually read what it said— “Anyone seen Zed? He was gonna meet me at my farm sometime this morning.” It wasn’t odd for hermits to maybe be a little off the mark when it came to meeting up at certain times as last minute obstacles can and will pop up, but Ex knew Zedaph to be more of an early bird, so the message catches his eye. Considering that punctuality wasn’t a very pressing issue among the hermits, either, the fact that it was being brought up at all meant Zedaph was probably really late to this meeting.

A few minutes pass. Ex watches the scroll of messages, folks typing back and forth to each other as they all touch bases on the issue. Soon enough the guy in question pipes up with a short, “Coming!” which is met with various teasing replies and emotes.

Later that same day, Ex is wandering around their communal areas when he spots them— or rather hears them as he comes up the side of a building. From around the corner he recognizes the voice of Zedaph, as well as Tango’s, but their tone seems off after a second of active listening.

They’re trying to talk in hushed tones, but their whispers are loud and somewhat harsh which means they’ve already been at it for a while and were edging towards a potential argument if the wrong thing was said. Zedaph seems like he’s trying to sound reassuring, but it’s obviously not convincing Tango because he doesn’t sound, well, convinced.

“Everything’s fine, don’t worry about it. It’s not anything truly serious.”

“Not truly serious my left foot.”

“Which one? Last I heard, you had two.”

“Both of them, so it's double trouble for you, Zed. But for real, if there’s anything serious, it’s what’s going on with you right now. You need to get that checked out.”

It’s then that Ex rounds the corner, realizing all too late he probably should’ve slowed down his steps and bided his time to eavesdrop some more, because he catches Tango’s attention right away. Zedaph has his back to Ex, but Tango’s diverted gaze makes him spin around and spot him, too. Ex is quick to notice the flush of freckles and sheen of sweat on Zedaph’s cheeks and brow which makes his bangs stick to his forehead, but he misses the flash of surprise that crosses Zedaph’s face, as well as his expression briefly morphing into something intense that's immediately quashed into something of poorly executed fake disinterest.

Unbeknownst to the context, Ex walks up and greets the both of them. Tango returns the formalities without dropping his somewhat tense posture, but he doesn't continue the conversation he was having with Zedaph, and Zedaph doesn’t look any less uncomfortable than he already was.

“You look ill. Are you alright?” asks Ex while staring directly at Zedaph, and Tango almost seems appreciative of the bluntness. Zedaph stutters, combing his bangs to one side as his eyes dart to the floor,

“Y-yeah, I’m fine." He clears his throat, fiddling with the front of his sweater. "Peachy, dandy, and all those other things.”

Tango lets out a low rumble, obviously displeased, “Are you sure about that, bud?”

“Yes," Zedaph drawls incredulously, giving him a side-eyed look. "I’ve told you already, it’s just a small bug. It’ll clear up in no time! And speaking of time, I have got to be going!” And like the wind, Zedaph bolts off like he’s making a run for it, leaving behind an obviously concerned and frustrated Tango, and a misinformed and confused Ex. A few seconds pass before Ex turns to Tango.

“I heard you two talking about something before I came round the corner. Is there anything the matter?”

Tango sighs and shrugs, shaking his head as he puts his hands on his hips, still looking in the direction where Zedaph ran off, “Nah, just classic Zed not wanting to take his cold medication because they don’t have the flavor he likes.”

Ex follows Tango’s gaze and leaves it at that without another word. Tango’s words confuse him— how would someone with a cold not want to take medication made for colds? He thinks back to the times he’s fallen ill and had to take medication, sometimes the flavors being nice and other times being absolutely vile. He figures that with so many folks on the server, they would have at least one person regularly tinkering with potions to create different flavors, but anything’s possible.

He parts ways with Tango with a quick farewell, and he heads straight home, making a beeline for one of his cupboards designated for random kitchenwares. From there he pulls out a few bowls, bottles, and a brewing stand before rummaging through his stack of books for potion recipes Xisuma had written down.

Flipping through the floral stained pages, he bookmarks a few potion recipe entries to brew and try out, hoping that by making a broad selection, it will overlap any gray areas and take care of Zedaph's recent affliction, empirically or not.

It isn't until he's accidentally made a mundane potion three times in a row that he realizes he's been sitting with an awful slouch, and upon popping his back he can see the sun starting to rise from beyond the horizon. Biting back a yawn, he pulls off his top and drops face first into his bed, knocking out cold the moment his head touches the pillow.

When he comes to, it's late in the afternoon, the pinks of the sky rolling in from the waning light of the sun bouncing off of the clouds. Kicking off his sheets, he lays there for a few seconds before turning and sitting up, legs hanging off the side of the bed with his feet inches from the floor.

He stretches his arms above his head, a yawn escaping from his mouth before he can stop it, and he slowly rises from the mattress. Idly scratching his side while grabbing his shirt off the floor before sauntering over to his work bench, he picks up where he left off, brewing more potions as the sun continues and finishes traveling across the sky.

In no time it’s the following morning yet again , and Ex feels he has somewhat more familiarity with the process of brewing potions, but he finds himself with far too many potions of healing and other potions whose effects were anyone’s guess. With all the taste testing he’s done, he’s never felt better, but he’s become dreadfully sick of the flavors on top of feeling slightly concerned over the strange sensations lingering in his mouth.

Placing an elbow on his workbench, he puts his face into his palm and rubs his eye with the heel of his hand, feeling fatigue seeping in at a fast rate. He just about faceplants into the desk, and when he comes to a few hours later, he can immediately feel the lines imprinted onto his skin from the wrinkles of his shirt, and sees with slight disgust he’s left a small puddle of drool on the tabletop.

He realizes belatedly he'd also forgotten to put the potions away before unexpectedly falling asleep, the then-freshly brewed liquid now having long since gone cold, and the cooling blaze powder in the brewing stand twinkling softly at him like dying embers. With a groan, he’s just about to toss the potions into the nearest chest and go back to hitting the hay when he bumps into something and his message log opens up on its own.

He stares at it dumbly for a few seconds, then immediately sobers as the letters start registering, rereading the message in front of him a few more times as he wakes up faster.

<Zedaph> he y (  
<Zedaph> I ne  
<Zedaph> I nede yuor h elp/ where ar eyou.?  
<Zedaph> M not doin so hot ..

It’s then at that moment he gets a push notification from the general chat from a message that’s assigned to everyone. It's from Cub, and in his message he's letting everyone know that Zedaph had collapsed but that he's been taken to the ConCorp infirmary where he's being looked after by his witch doctor and illager nurses.

So far they suspect he became dehydrated and febrile while working outside and had something of a heatstroke, and Ex thinks back to Tango's earlier concern as well as Zedaph's flushed appearance. Right then, a follow-up message pops up restating that Zedaph is fine and recovering, perhaps even able to have visitors the following day.

Ex doesn't have that kind of time, by now scrambling to freshen up and make himself look somewhat decent before bolting out the door, barely managing to snag his helmet as he heads down the path leading to the ConCorp facility with the infirmary. He knows that Cub's medical staff will have surely concocted the appropriate potion for Zedaph's current condition, but he still takes a shulker box—borrowed from Xisuma without permission—which is about halfway filled with potions of healing and regeneration that he managed not to botch.

When he arrives, the sun has gone and the infirmary is quiet and still, the only indication of life being an illager that just so happens to leave out of the opposite side of the room right as he sneaks in. Wandering around, he eventually finds Zedaph's room, where he appears to be asleep in a cot.

He nears, and right as he's a few steps away, Zedaph stirs in a way that shows he was awake the entire time and had probably picked up on Ex's presence earlier than he let on.

Ex regards him, quickly noting Zedaph's apparent bareness underneath his gown when he shifts and exposes a sliver of skin on his hip from the fabric bunching up. Not wanting to be distracted, Ex forces his eyes away as he places the shulker box down on the floor.

"What'd you bring?" comes Zedaph's question in a slightly raspy tone that Ex would've mistaken as the consequence of working in the heat and becoming dehydrated.

Ex pulls out two red bottles,

"A few potions. I hope you don't mind the flavors. Tango was telling me about it earlier when I'd last seen you both."

He doesn't see the way Zedaph blanches slightly and leans back into his cot, "He… he did?"

"Yes, about how you didn't want to take your cold medication because the flavors weren't good."

Zedaph's mouth opens, trying to think of a response to say, but Ex continues,

"So I made you a few of these to take."

"I… they already gave me some medication."

"Yeah, I figured since you're in an actual medical facility. You don't have to take it now, but it's an option if you want to take it later on."

Zedaph takes the bottles, but there's an awkward pause that lingers, and when Ex looks up, he sees it's not because Zedaph's at a loss for words on how to express his gratitude. Zedaph looks nothing short of miserable, looking a sad state while working the bottle between his hands and making the liquid swirl, and Ex wishes there was something he could give him to spring him back to his lively self.

Zedaph swallows, choking on his spit a little before clearing his throat, "I have something to confess."

Ex turns his body to face Zedaph fully, signaling that he's giving him all his attention, and Zedaph continues as he watches the potion slosh inside the bottle.

"It's… hmm, it's not quite a cold that I'm dealing with."

"The flu, then?"

"No, but I wish. That would be a million times better."

Ex furrows his brow and sneers slightly in confusion. He's starting to get why Tango was preoccupied after now hearing that the flu would be preferable to whatever Zedaph was dealing with.

"Then what is it?" he asks, his fingers tight around the neck of the second potion bottle, suspended in the air as his hand hovers between him and a nearby nightstand that he was going to place the bottle on.

Zedaph closes his eyes and sighs, his shoulders sagging and body sinking back into the cot, "Remember the time we spent in the mansion?"

Ex nods slowly.

"Remember how they had used some kind of magic on us? I think it might've done something else to me, but on some sort of… delay."

"A delay?"

"I don't know, but… I think it's due to the fact that I'm built a little differently than you, unless I'm wrong. The thing is, I…" Zedaph looks quite embarrassed, voice lowering as he mutters, "I experience heat cycles."

Ex's expression clears, eyebrows slightly raised as understanding dawns on him with this new information as Zedaph continues.

"I don't know why it took this long, but I think after we were teleported back, a little bit of that magic stuck to me and grew into something wierd because it feels like my cycles are all thrown out of whack, like if they took a calendar and squished all the days together like a crumpled sandwich. At first I would sort of spike maybe every three or four days, then to every other day, but now it's nearly every single day on the hour."

Ex nods solemnly, the words sinking in, “That sounds… much.”

Something else nags at the back of Ex’s mind, making him tilt his head a little.

“Why haven’t you gone to anyone for help, like Tango? He was there with you in the shopping district. You could have asked him then.”

Zedaph sighs, his expression clearly saying, ‘Coulda, shoulda, woulda,’ as he runs a hand over his face.

“I will admit he’s, uhm… helped me in the past, but he’s been really busy with some big projects. Plus I thought that with our recent… uhm, venture… Yours and mine, I mean… The last one, that is...” Even Ex could see that Zedaph was really struggling to find the right words, his face getting pink and starting to bead sweat around his temples. Zedaph sighs again, a bit more sharply this time while continuing.

"I wasn't sure if this was a lingering curse from the mansion, and since you and I were the only ones there, I didn't want to accidentally affect anyone else."

Ex remains quiet, watching as Zedaph wipes a hand across his forehead as he clears his throat and continues,

“You know…" Zedaph's adam's apple bobs, "I was going to ask you something before I fell ill and wound up here.”

“You were?”

“Yes, but now I’m almost a bit embarrassed to ask.”

“You’ve already brought it up, and I’m very curious and want to know what it was you were going to ask, so you better tell me.”

Zedaph looks away, eyes flicking away to the far corner of the room, and he bites his lower lip,

“Say this is something that did follow me from the mansion-- the mansion we’ve both been to. Would you be open to the idea of, uhm… possibly trying to work out something that’ll lift this curse?”

Surprisingly, Ex picks up what Zedaph’s trying to put down with relative ease.

“You mean try and fuck this out of your system and see if that’s the cure?" He ignores Zedaph's embarrassed squawk with a quick shrug, adding, "I don’t see why not."

Ex starts removing his helmet, undoing the clasps that held it onto his neck.

"I'm almost offended you didn't ask me earlier," he says as he shakes out his helmet hair, lazily ruffling and combing his wild locks with his fingers as he sets down the helmet on the floor underneath his chair.

Zedaph whines, watching Ex's hands intently, "I'm sorry, I've never dealt with a curse that affected my cycles before."

"You need to get out more often."

Ex sits on the edge of the cot, and they look at each other.

Zed nibbles on his bottom lip again, looking up at Ex from under his lashes, his eyes alternating none too subtly between Ex's eyes and lips, "So is that a yes?"

"Yes, you dummy."

Ex's world spins round its axis as Zedaph grabs hold of him, yanks him down off his feet, and practically drives him forcefully into the cot beneath him. Ex, shocked into a small stupor, can only watch as Zedaph slots himself between his legs, his fingers nearly tearing at the buttons of his pants. He gasps loudly when they're roughly tugged right down his legs and clean off his ankles along with his underwear and even one of his socks.

Zedaph's mouth is at his neck before his undergarments even reach the floor. Their chests are pressing against each other as one of Zedaph's hands slide down Ex's wrists to interlace their fingers tightly together, whilst the other trails down to Ex's crotch and getting right to business.

Ex can feel Zedaph's erection pressing hard against his thigh through the thin hospital gown, the heat of his scantily clad body rolling off in waves and encapsulating him, warming up the immediate area surrounding them like a blazing furnace. Peeking one of his eyes open, he can see how flush Zedaph really is, all the pent up arousal finally having an outlet with someone familiar.

The only difference now is that Ex currently has a dick instead of a pussy, of which was currently being squished beneath Zedaph’s weight. Ex tries his best to adjust himself in the cot into a more comfortable position, but this only prompts Zedaph to press into him, their hips smushing against each other.

Zedaph’s mouth kisses whatever bits of exposed skin he can find, at one point stretching and almost tearing the neckline of Ex’s shirt in an effort to kiss around his collarbones. His hands wander just as much, running hotly across Ex’s ribs and belly, fingertips dragging through the dips and grooves of his musculature, gripping his pecs and buttocks firmly before rolling the flesh desirously.

It’s absolutely overwhelming, and Ex can only gasp, shudder, and groan as Zedaph feels up his body voraciously. His arms are trapped, and any attempt to wiggle them free is met with Zedaph shifting around to keep him confined.

It’s after he makes a particularly wanton moan that Zedaph kisses at his throat and murmurs, “That’s it…” Zedaph begs with a heavy roll of his hips, “Please… be noisy for me… please… I need to hear...” and Ex moans again.

Suddenly, Zedaph goes rigid, hips stuttering as his breaths splutter. Ex’s mind nearly goes blank from the sound, belatedly realizing Zedaph had already come. Before he can say anything, he notices that Zedaph hasn’t collapsed on him like he did back at the mansion.

“Zedaph?” he asks in a soft voice, unsure where to gauge Zedaph’s headspace. A little worried by how hard Zedaph is panting, Ex says his name and draws his attention, but this makes it clear Zedaph's having difficulty focusing through his daze, his eyes looking off towards an unseen point in space.

“'m alright,” he croaks, and Ex relaxes a little.

Zedaph leans in to give him a kiss, missing his mouth by a mile and landing it on his eyebrow while clumsily trying to grasp at Ex's shirt. Ex huffs and bats his hands away, pulling his shirt up in one clean motion and tossing it off to the side, determining it was ruined anyways from Zedaph’s rough tugging at the collar.

“Still alright?” Ex asks, voice gentle. He waits for Zedaph to nod before proposing,

“Did you want to take me now, or try another position?”

He can see Zedaph visibly get excited at the prospects for either decision, but it’s soon mixed in with a slight sheepishness as Zedaph quietly says, “Doggy…”

Nodding, Ex starts to flip over, but Zedaph grabs him mid-turn and spins him around faster, making Ex flop belly first in the cot. It makes him bounce a little as Zedaph pins Ex’s hands down once more and starts to rut against his backside, his crotch still covered by the gown, his dick straining against the thin layer of fabric.

Zedaph is back to sounding needy and almost pathetic in how desperate he wants to fuck Ex already, muffling his words when he nips and mouths at the back of Ex's neck and shoulders.

Ex almost chastises him, nearly wheezing out, "Let a guy get in the mood, too!" This entire time, he hasn't been able to touch himself since being pulled into the bed, his own dick being pressed into the sheets as his hands are held down, the friction frustratingly not enough for him.

Zedaph leans back a little, giving Ex the ability to take in a breath after being squished, and lifts his gown just enough to expose his dick. He's been producing a generous amount of precum, the front of his gown soaked from it, and he strokes himself, coating his fingers in the clear, syrupy liquid before using it to finger and lube up Ex's entrance.

Unsuspecting of this, Ex is initially caught off guard by the sudden fingers moving inside him, but he quickly forces himself to relax and lets Zedaph work him open easily. Zedaph at one point pushes his fingers in too deep and makes Ex's feet draw up with a yelp from having his sensitive spot pressed so soon.

Before he can recover, the fingers are gone, but before the feeling of emptiness can settle, he feels Zedaph's tip pushing against his entrance. He has to suck in a shaky breath and bite his fist to make sure to keep himself pliant, wanting to take all of Zedaph's length, remembering how much he struggled back in the mansion.

Zedaph’s hips jerk forward and he slips right past Ex’s entrance with a curse under his breath because he was at an awkward angle and didn't time his thrust right, instead hotdogging between Ex's cheeks, making Ex in turn breathily moan from feeling its weight and girth rubbing against his hole.

Zed pulls back and thrusts again, making Ex cry out loud from the sudden stretch as Zedaph hits his mark. As the sting subsides, Ex notices Zedaph isn’t his usual gentle self, very unlike how slow and patient he was back in the mansion. Here he's fast and quick to get what he wants, making it clear by how roughly he thrusts in and out of Ex.

Ex, experienced in being treated less than tenderly, fists the sheets and moans loudly into them. Zedaph is holding his wrists down in a vice grip, almost painfully so and it is sure to leave him marked, his tender friend making guttural noises, loud growling grunts escaping his mouth as his mating brain tells him to breed, to fuck, and to claim.

Deep down through the haze Zedaph knows that in this state, Ex would never be able to sow his seed, and not that he would want him to anyways, but nevertheless he fucks into him in earnest, pounding harder and harder until the cot is squeaking.

Ex had no way to prepare for this, his body buzzing and senses becoming overwhelmed. His ears are filled with nothing but their ragged breaths and the obscene sounds of Zedaph’s flesh slapping against his, and he can’t remember the last time he took a proper breath since he started getting his insides pummeled by Zedaph's dick. His orgasm rips through him with a loud cry, his body shaking as he squeezes hard around Zedaph, which makes the guy slow down and hiss from the tightness as he struggles to keep his pace going.

Unable to hold out any longer, Zedaph's body suddenly seizes again, thrusting shallowly a few more times as he releases his load into Ex, who was still riding out his own orgasm because Zedaph hadn't let up, each thrust pushing it further along and making it last a little longer.

Zedaph at this point is practically crying, the pent up hormones surging through him, and he flops heavily onto Ex's back. This earns him a loud and muffled noise of complaint as Ex is squished once more, complaining and reminding Zedaph about their difference in mass.

In response, Zedaph slides his hands under Ex's front, rolling them backwards so that Ex lays against his chest.

Suddenly, Zed is rocking into him again, apparently refreshed in his refractory period while Ex is still sensitive from his first climax. This makes Ex cry out, bringing up his knees and curling his toes, throwing his head back against Zedaph's shoulder.

Zedaph uses this as an opportunity to bite— like actually bite— his exposed neck, running his tongue over the red teeth marks he leaves behind, and Ex feels weak. One of Zedaph's hands snakes down and palms at Ex's dick and balls, using the motion of his thrusting and Ex's cum from earlier to help him rub the underside of Ex’s shaft. His other arm is wrapped tightly across his torso right at the bottom of the ribs, and Ex struggles to catch his breath, already dizzy from such roughness.

Curious from the angle as a thought crosses his mind, Ex puts a hand on his belly over his belly button and presses down. He can feel the bulge Zedaph's dick makes as he thrusts into his innards, pressing into spots that feel good.

A couple more thrusts, and Ex groans as he feels Zedaph spill into him once more with an almost melodic sigh next to his ear, his arm finally loosening up around his chest. Laying there for a few minutes while catching his breath and getting his bearings, Ex gets self conscious about potentially squishing Zedaph and tries to lift himself up.

He's suddenly pushed forward and met face-first with the sheets once more before being flipped over and pressed into the bedding, his legs lifted as if to wrap around Zedaph's hips. Somewhere along the way of being manhandled, Zedaph had almost pulled out, and Ex can feel some of his cum leaking and dribbling out of him.

Without thinking, Ex shouts, "Fucking christ, how many more rounds do you have left in there!"

Zedaph laughs breathily, and replies, "One more– last one– gotta make it count."

A stray thought comes to Ex’s mind, recalling that apparently if one goes long enough in a mating cycle, the rule of threes may apply to how many subsequent rounds one can and may need to go through to be satiated, but in Zedaph's case, three may just be the minimum.

Nevertheless, Ex is pinned once more like he's been from the start, this time in missionary, and he's unsure if Zedaph's ever pulled out once since they started fucking. He wraps his legs up higher around Zedaph's hips, but soon he's being moved around like putty and has his legs thrown up over Zedaph's shoulders as Zedaph pushes into him once again.

The angle hits him very deep, and the thrusts combined with nearly being flattened like a bent pancake is making it even hard to breathe right. Soon enough, he starts feeling lightheaded from the physical exertion and lack of sufficient air, and weakly grabs at Zedaph's gown.

His hands run up Zed's side, his chest, his neck, and up to his face where he cups his cheeks, feeling the burn of his heat and sweat on his skin, running his hands through Zed's hair to get it out of his face and mouth. Zedaph, momentarily grounding himself with this, leans into the touch and moans out Ex's name, his movements getting slower but still trying to thrust hard, making Ex groan.

Zedaph comes one final time, letting out a raspy sigh as a full body shiver runs through him, and Ex feels tingly and flush. This time Ex can't find it in himself to complain as Zed has him half squished into the cot, the fabric dipping a little lower than it's supposed to from holding two frisky bodies.

They stay like this for a while, and Zedaph says as he adjusts and pulls his hips back so he finally slips out of Ex, "Saving my life yet again."

Feeling the ghost of an ache as cum leaks out his backside, Ex stretches and says, "Happy to help, although this better not be like a pyrrhic victory. I still want to be able to walk tomorrow," and Zedaph snorts.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for the read! Or the fast scroll down here; idk! :'D
> 
> It was actually a big struggle for me to work on this fic for some reason. Like, I had this guy brewing since like August of 2020, so believe me that I've been ruminating on its execution for quite a while.
> 
> But yeah, I had the great fortune of having three wonderful people beta read this fic and add their wonderful input. I'm forever grateful <3


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